Apocalypse Orange SYOC
by ParabolaOfMystery
Summary: Well, it's the Zombie Apocalypse. Unfortunately, the demigods are going to have something other than zombies to worry about... each other. Mainly OCs, but I'll throw some of the crew in there as well. SYOC information at the bottom of the first chapter.
1. At the Post rewrite

**For anyone new to this story, hello. For anyone who previously read the other two chapters that were out, completely disregard them. They don't matter anymore. Well, somewhat. More details at the bottom, plus SYOC information. **

Here's a basic lesson well known by anyone still alive at this point in time: Zombies beat humans. Hands down. Humans, being dependent, emotional, vulnerable, and weak, are no match for the hungry, headshot-needed zombies who would stop at nothing to eat someone's fingers off. It's no wonder that there were a handful of real humans remaining on earth.

And as I fished a gory arrow out of a zombie's skull cavity, I was extremely thankful that I was not human. Demigod, bitch. Deal with it.

"Gross," I muttered, wiping zombie brain matter- which was a black, tarlike substance, eaten away by the zombie disease- onto my pants. They were already splattered with numerous substances that I didn't even care to investigate. I was probably going to burn the pants later, anyway. Because burning things is fun.

My partner, David, chuckled. "If you think this is gross, why did you sign up to be an exterminator?" He turned away for a second to slice the head off an oncoming zombie. One fluent slash, complete decapitation. "Oh wait. I remember now. Mr. D was ready to kick you out because you burned down the kitchen because your cooking _sucked._"

My face reddened. "_Almost_burned down the kitchen. The cupboards survived, remember? And my cooking is not that bad…" I was rather proud of my cooking, actually. I'd improved a lot over the years.

"You turned macaroni and cheese _gray_, Arya. I don't even see how that is chemically possible."

"Shut up." Because truthfully, I didn't know how it happened, either.

David smiled and lowered his sword, searching the trees. "I think that's the last of them tonight," he said. He nodded to the light pole. "Climb up there and see if there are any others. Then we should head in."

I nodded. The light pole, which was a pain to build, was an extremely tall wooden… pole, I guess. At the top was a crow's nest and a huge lantern, like a lighthouse. From the top, you could see for miles. The point of the light pole was to attract the zombies. Now you might be asking, who in their right mind would want to attract the diabolical cannibalistic things? Us. We had to start getting rid of the zombies some way. They'd basically taken up most of the planet. It was our start to getting rid of them, at least around the camp. Basic survival, I guess.

As I climbed up the rope ladder leading to the nest, I thanked the gods that I wasn't afraid of heights. Anyone who hated high places would have peed themselves right now. The top was even better. I grunted as I finally heaved myself up onto the wooden platform. As I stood up, I smiled. I loved the view. I could see everything.

Although it kind of sucked that everything was kind of depressing. I could clearly see the smoke and dust that seemed to never stop coming from New York City. It seemed like the place was constantly smoldering; the sky all around our area was stained an orangey color. Back at camp, Bolin had dubbed the shade "Apocalypse Orange."

But at sunset, it was beautiful.

Oh gods. I'm about to get all mushy-gushy. Stopping right now.

I tore my eyes away from the skies to search for any straggling zombies. Sure enough, I saw two making their way together, and I quickly sent an arrow through their decomposing eye sockets. I saw one even farther away, an unusually tall one. He probably used to be a basketball player. I almost felt bad when he went down. Almost.

Once I was sure all the undead in the area were eliminated, I smothered the fire with a blanket. It was a dense thing, designed by some Hephaestus kid. It couldn't burn, and no amount of air could get through it, effectively suffocating the flames.

Back on the ground, David and I surveyed our work from tonight. The pole was surrounded by a thick ring of dead zombies. At least we were used to the smell.

"Good work tonight."

"Yeah," I agreed. "At least it's not our job to burn the bodies."

He sighed in relief at that thought. "Let's go back, yeah?"

The camp was a little over four miles from our post. When we first started extermination, the walk was torture. Now we managed it at a moderate jog in less than forty minutes, quickly picking off any zombies that happened to crawl across our path.

The camp had evolved in the last couple of years. The magical border still worked, of course. But at night, when the lights were on, the zombies were attracted to the lights like mosquitoes. It would take hours to pick off all of the idiotic creatures, not to mention their moaning did not help anyone sleep. To fix this, a gigantic stone wall was built around the camp. It decreased the amount of light attracting the zombies, and protected the camp from rogues. Really, rogues were the camp's biggest danger. The zombies could get in, but demigod raiders could. They caused a lot of the fatalities within the borders, second only to stupid human refugees-turned-zombies and infection. Food poisoning took fourth. I might have helped a little in that.

David knocked on the heavy metal gate. A grinning face appeared through the bars. "Names?"

David groaned. "Bolin, I'm your _brother_."

The face only grinned wider. "You could be impostors. The zombies might have learned to talk! Oh, gods, help us if that happens!"

"Please?" I groaned. Resting my head on the bars. I was dog tired. "There's chocolate cake tonight. I don't want to miss the chocolate cake…"

Stubborn as ever, Bolin said, "Names."

"Arya Winters."

David narrowed his eyes at Bolin, who was still grinning like a maniac. "David Washington."

"Yay!" The gates creaked open and I was immediately tackled by Bolin in a huge, bear hug. It was funny, because the guy was practically a teddy bear- big, cute, with curly black hair and big, green eyes. Almost opposite, David was a big shorter, lean, and stealthy. While they both had black hair, David's was straight and cut short, military style. Altogether, David was much more… serious, I guess. It could be somewhat of a bummer sometimes. "You guys are alive and not zombies!"

"Well, it's not like we could get infected anyway," David said. Wow. Always having to be factual.

"You never know!" Bolin hugged me tighter and I slowly began suffocating to death. "The disease could have evolved! Arya could slowly be turning into a brain eating monster! _She is too precious for this world!_"

"Slowly… dying…" I managed. It would be kind of sad if I died during the Zombie Apocalypse because of suffocation via hug. Scratch that. It would be very sad.

"Oops," Bolin said, all the dramatic air out of him. For the moment, at least. I slumped to the ground, enjoying my newfound supply of oxygen. "Sorry there."

"Still dying," I wheezed, rolling on the ground. "Only… antidote… chocolate… cake…"

Bolin gathered me up in his muscular arms. I made myself dangled limp and floppy. "Hurry! We must go to the kitchen!"

David rolled his eyes. "You two are idiots," he said, but Bolin had already taken off running with me. I could already smell the chocolate cake. Once we got to the dining pavilion, he dumped me on a table rather unceremoniously.

"Aw," someone moaned. I lifted my head off the table to see Vander frowning down at his bowl. "Your zombie goo foot landed in my spaghetti."

"Sorry," I said, removing my foot from his dinner, although it left a nice heel-shaped crater of crusted mud and blood in the noodles. I slid off the table into the seat next to him. Bolin and David seated themselves across from us. "How was everyone's day? Extermination was really fun today," I said, smiling at David. "Headshots all around."

A dark shadow crossed the table. I looked up to see Renee Bellatona, my half-sister. Her ice blue eyes twinkled in the lamplight and she grinned down at me, holding a plate of chocolate cake in her hand.

I squealed in delight. "You brought me cake!"

"What?" She swiped the cake out of my reach. "You're alive? When Bolin carried you in here, I was certain you were dead. I got some cake to celebrate!" She smiled, then handed me the cake. "But seriously. Cake."

"Om." I closed my eyes, savoring the frosting, which I'd scooped off first, leaving the cake part behind for later.

"So how was sanitation today?" Van asked Renee, referring to her job. She was assigned to sanitation, a.k.a. dragging all the dead zombs into the fire pits. "Did you- ah… have fun? Dragging corpses…?"

She plopped down onto the bench exasperatedly. "It was _awful_, as usual. The only bright side was that we finished early and I got to shower," she explained, gesturing to her unusually clean clothes, unlike my own grime-splatted ones. "I'm _so _going to beg for a job change from Ezekiel."

"Again," I added, pointing my fork for emphasis.

"Again," she agreed, running a hand through her long black hair. Even though she was my half-sister, she looked nothing like me or the rest of our siblings. I was the typical Apollo kid, golden-haired and blue-eyed. Renee, however, was completely different. She had ink-black hair and eyes the color of ice. Personality-wise, she was just like the rest of us, cheerful and talkative, if not more so. "Maybe Ezekiel will _finally _transfer me."

"If he's not too busy _swooning _over Annabeth," Van added helpfully. "Seriously. He's always trying to flirt with her. Annabeth complains about it all the time. You'd think he'd notice she was with Percy."

"They would be so terrible together," Renee giggled. Her eyes grew distant and I could tell she was trying to picture the unlikely couple.

A high-pitched twinkle filled the air, drowning out Renee's laughter. We called it the Bedtime Bell. It signaled when everyone was supposed to retreat to their cabins, shut off every possible light, and lock the doors. For safety reasons, of course.

"Well, night," Renee said cheerfully, waving at David, Bolin, and Van. I nodded goodbye, my mouth still full of cake. I took my plate with me as we walked back to the Apollo cabin together. "Look," Renee said, pointing up at the sky. "The sky's orange, even at night."

I looked up. The sky was a dark, ugly shade of orange, almost like mahogany. Stars still twinkled down, although much more dull than I remembered they used to be. "Apocalypse Orange," I said softly, tossing my empty plate in a wooden garbage bin.

We were the last ones back to the cabin. Everyone was already in their bunks. Half of them were already curled up, snoring. I could pick out Jacob's unique rumble. The triplets Mia, Zia and Kia were sitting together on a bunk, whispering. They immediately silenced and stared at us when we walked in. I stared at them, puzzled. "What is it?" I asked.

Mia nodded solemnly toward Ezekiel. Our counselor was sitting at his desk, cramped in the corner, looking at a small message and frowning. I could already tell by his dark blue eyes that something was wrong.

"Renee? Can you come here please?" He asked without looking up from the note. As Renee went to him, I went behind the changing curtain to get out of my disgusting clothes. When I walked back out in my pajamas, Renee was sitting on her bunk, reading the same little note. I chucked my clothes in the laundry bin and sat down next to her. Only then did I realize that her icy eyes were full of tears.

"Renee?" I asked carefully.

Her eyes did not leave the note. "My mom," she whispered, her voice strained from trying to keep the tears back. "My mom is dead."

**So yeah. Most of it was the same, but I added some new characters and changed the plot completely. Nothing too drastic with this one, but the 2****nd**** chapter will be absolutely different from what was previously published. I still want characters as well! **

**The characters Vander Remus and Renee Bellatona are products of the wonderful imagination of MyNameIsNot. Thank you so much!**

**If you guys want to give me any one-shot ideas, feel free to PM me! The crazier, the better!**

** So… SYOC info. I want some campers for Banner Rock as well as a few for Half Blood.**

** I'll take like, four or so (2 guys, 2 girls) for Banner (one will be major), and three (at least one guy) for Half Blood (one girl will be a major character). There are some characters I've mentioned that are not really developed or anything. They include Kipp the archer and the two kids that were with Cersei. Feel free to use them for your OCs as long as you use the information already provided. (Which is hardly anything anyway.) Also, you might as well PM me both a boy and a girl. **

** Rules: **

** -Must be original. Hence the 'OC.'**

** -No cookie cutters. I want unique characters. If they are Mary Sues, or just plain boring, I might throw their names in there, but they will not be major. **

** -No overly dramatic histories, for Pete's sake. Not everyone's little brother dies in a fire and not everyone's parents are killed by rampaging hellhounds. This is the zombie apocalypse!**

** -No titans, and if you're going to use a minor god, make sure they are legit and any powers that they inherit from them make sense. I use Google. **

** -Be unique! **

** - I will add characters… as I receive them probably. Some Half Blood kids may be transferred to Banner, but I will tell you if that happens. **

** Get at me, bro. **


	2. Banner Rock

**Here's a new chapter. You're welcome:D This is in Jordan Miller's POV, a character by ! Both Ro and Blake are from the amazing Evil Taco Overlordxp. Feel free to enter as many OCs as you like, please be extremely descriptive on their personalities!**

_**Jordan**_

It was night, and everything was drenched in dark orange light. I perched on the top of the wooden wall that surrounded Banner Rock Camp. Most of the camp was under Banner Rock, a cave-riddled cliff, but the wall was still necessary to keep out intruders. If only it was as strong as Half Blood's. In my hands I had my emergency dagger, turning it end over end absently, only being half-aware of the crisp edges. Every once in a while I would feel a sharp prick where it managed to break the skin, but it the cuts were never more than a paper cut. As I fidgeted with the knife, my eyes scanned the line of trees where the forest restarted. All the trees closest to our camp had been mercilessly chopped down to build our wall, forming a halo of stumps.

Tonight I couldn't make out any zombies or monsters or anything that wanted to hurt us. That was lucky for the hunters, who were always out, even at night when it was most dangerous. They were constantly looking for food… my stomach growled at the thought of a rabbit roasting on the fire. It had been so long since we had rabbit.

Food was constantly on my mind. No matter what I was doing, there was always a tiny part of my brain looking for something to eat. I was always constantly hungry, even before the zombie apocalypse started. If only Banner Rock's caves were stuffed to overflowing with hamburgers and steaks and apples and pies and fish…

I shook my head, ravenous at the thought. _Nope, _I thought miserably. _There's never that much food here. _It seemed as if the food storages were always close to empty. There was always just enough food to feed everyone, even if there wasn't enough to keep their stomachs full.

At least it wasn't like the Famine, when Banner Rock ran out of food completely. It happened a little while before I arrived, but I heard horror stories and I saw the emaciated kids that still had to recover. The most chilling story was of the boy who had killed a zombie, cooked it over a fire, and ate it.

It did not end well.

I shook my head again, this time shoving the story away. I looked at my watch. The glowing numbers told me it was just past three o clock in the morning. My night watch shift was over. I hopped down from my perch, nodding hello to my replacement as I walked away. I always did the night shifts. I hardly ever slept, so it made sense that I take the job and let everyone else rest like they needed to.

I began walking back to my assigned cabin. Unlike Camp Half Blood, we were not assigned cabins by parent, but by age. There was no light in the camp, seeing as light attracted the undead, but the orange sky gave off enough to see. A small light, a flickering lamp probably, attracted my eye. Cersei's cabin. I approached it and pushed open the door cautiously.

"Come in," I heard her say. I entered, seeing her sitting at her desk, rifling through notes. Her hair shimmered like gold in the lamplight, and her violet eyes were narrowed as she read report after report for zombie apocalypse news from all over the world. She was only nineteen years old, but she seemed much more mature.

"Any good news?" I asked quietly.

She scoffed, almost sadly. "What do you think?" Her brow furrowed. "Every day, it's more of the same. Cities burned to the ground, refugee camps taken over, zombie hunters killed… I don't even see how I can still keep going with this camp."

"There's no one else."

She pursed her lips. "Except for Percy Jackson, of course," she remarked, not even bothering to hide the poison in her voice. "And Annabeth and Jason and Chiron and all those _heroes_ at Camp Half Blood."

I bit my lip. Cersei was always talking like that about Camp Half Blood. I could never find out why she hated the other camp so much. Maybe she had some personal grudge against them from a while ago. Knowing her, she would never say anything about why she despised them. She'd convinced everyone in the camp that Camp Half Blood was an evil place that hoarded and stole resources for themselves, and tons of other things. Almost every single person despised the other camp.

Except for me.

"I hate them," I lied.

Cersei looked up and stared at me curiously. "You really don't talk much at all, do you?"

"My mother says that if you don't have anything worthwhile to say, don't say anything." Well, my mother used to say that at least. She was dead now, like most of the world's population. Or she might be a brain eating zombie, stumbling around far away. I shoved the thought out of my head.

Cersei gave me a small smile. "That's some good advice."

"Thank you."

Cersei turned over a couple more sheets of paper, then threw them down, frustrated. "I can't stand this. The refugee camp in Omaha was practically dissected by zombies. I got an Irisnote about it. It's completely depressing."

"You should try and rest. You need it to be running this camp."

She nodded, exhausted. At times like this, late at night, the real Cersei came out. A tired girl, trying to hold everything together by herself; but during the day, all of that vanished and she became a strong, strict, and forceful leader. She could run a country if she needed to. Maybe even the planet. "You should get some sleep as well, Jordan."

"I will," I said, although I would probably spend the rest of the early morning staring up at the top of my bunk. I left her cabin and began walking back to my own. I twirled my knife in my hands again, enjoying feeling it cutting through the air. Gods, this place was boring. Everyone was expected to do their part to keep the place going- mine was guard duty- and keep inside the wooden wall unless necessary.

I felt it was necessary now. Screw insomnia.

Quietly, keeping in the dark places that weren't touched by the orangey light, I crept toward the farthest corner of the camp, where the wall met the face of Banner Rock. No one was around. My footsteps were silent. Soon I saw the rock in between the last vertical log and the cliff. It stuck out a tiny bit, and with some firm wiggling it slid out of place, revealing a hole partially cutting into the dirt. It was just the size for a fairly slender person to fit through. I army crawled through and replaced the rock carefully, making sure it fit in perfectly. No one would notice.

"Jordan, stay in the house!"

I spun around, slashing out with my knife. Ro Steel, son of Dolos managed to jump out of the way just in time, but the knife cut a nice horizontal slit through his black hoodie. A navy blue t-shirt showed through the new hole. He looked down at it disappointedly. "I liked this sweatshirt."

I grabbed the drawstrings of the hoodie and pulled him close. Our faces were almost touching. His blonde hair just brushed his eyebrows and his electric blue eyes gleamed happily at my anger. "How did you know I was sneaking out?" I hissed. " And how did you know about the hole? Were you following me? And why were you telling me to stay in the house?"

He grinned mischievously and waggled his eyebrows. Typical trickery god behavior. "That I'll never tell."

I threw him down onto the dirt. He landed hard, half laughing. "If you ever tell Cersei or _anyone _about this-"

He scoffed, brushing himself off. "You think I'd tell _Cersei_? Please. Secrets don't make friends, Miss Jordan Miller. I don't intend to be friends with _Cersei_," he said, chuckling at the thought. "Although that would be interesting…"

"Shut up." I began walking alongside the cliff, under a convenient little overhang that shielded us from the view of the night guards.

"How did you come to be friends with her, anyway? You don't seem to be the following orders type." He said, following right behind me. _Mary had a little lamb_, I thought offhandedly.

"Long story," I said.

"You don't talk that much."

"I've been told."

"Hm. Okay." We walked along the overhand until we reached the woods. Then Ro casually said, "Are we going to go zombie hunting now?"

I spun around and glared at him. "You _have _been following me. Pervert."

He raised his hands innocently. He was anything but innocent. "Perhaps that was an educated guess?"

I rolled my eyes and scowled, drawing my knife. I'd just realized I'd left my twin swords in the cabin, but I didn't mind. It would make zombie hunting much more dangerous. And much more fun. I began stalking through the trees, my eyes flitting through the shadows to see some shambling shape, my ears straining to hear the death rattle. I picked up the clumsy movements first; a zombie was breaking twigs like a champ over to my left.

I tested the weight of the knife in my hand, and I turned to Ro. "Bet your breakfast rations that I can hit it in the nose."

His eyes narrowed and he grinned devilishly. "Fine."

I spun, my arm darting fast as a whip; the knife flashed through the air, end of over end. I heard a _squish _and the sound of a body falling. Closer inspection revealed the knife had caved its face in right in the center.

"Right on the nose," I said. I could already taste the scrambled eggs that was supposed to be his breakfast.

Ro cursed, obviously regretting his decision to bet on my knife throwing skills. "Best two out of three?"

Fifteen minutes later, I was digging my knife out of another zombie's decaying skull. The blade was coated with a thick layer of sludgy zombie blood. "Seven out of thirteen?" I suggested.

Ro huffed. "Nope. I give up." Suddenly his head twitched to the side, birdlike, listening.

"What is it?"

His brow furrowed. "I hear zombies."

"Wow. You don't hear _that_ every day."

"No." He started jogging away. I sprinted to catch up with him. "Dying zombies."

Dying zombies? Well, that's certainly different from normal zombies. Dying zombies means something is out there killing them. As we ran farther, I began to hear the dying groans of the undead… along with very human yells. Judging by the amount of moaning, there were a _lot _of zombies, and judging by the amount of yellin, there was only one human.

Finally I saw it- against a wall of cliff was a group of at least thirty zombies. I'd never seen so many focused on one person. Admittedly, that one person was putting up a heck of a fight. It was a teenage guy- probably a loner- wearing gray, grime-splattered clothes. The orangey moonlight was flashing off two blades- a sword for farther targets, a long, serrated, and deadly looking knife for the undead that got too close. I admit I liked his strategy.

"Well. He's in trouble," Ro said blandly. "I guess we should probably help him out."

I didn't even bother to retort. I drew my knife, cursing again that I'd forgotten my swords. This fight would be over in a minute if I had remembered those. Ro undid the thick leather band on his wrist. Ten razor sharp knifes immediately extended from it. He took two off the leather band; one of them elongated until it was a sword, and he handed me the other.

"Thanks," I said, and I jumped into the battle with two knives in my hands. Ro was right behind me.

At first the zombies were too stupid to realize two other people joined their battle. Ro and I managed to pick off at least ten zombies before they turned toward us.

I twirled and stabbed, making my movements as quick as possible. That was their biggest weakness; a zombie's reaction time is a fraction of a humans. The faster you move, the more confused they get. Unfortunately, they didn't really seem to care how confused they got, and they advanced all the same.

As I worked on decapitating a particularly obese zombie, I saw another's hand reach out toward my hair. Before I could even react, Ro's sword swung down, effectively cutting off its fingers at the knuckles. The zombie didn't stop reaching, however, and ended up smearing black goo all over my neck.

"You did that on purpose!" I yelled at Ro, finishing the decapitation. I swung toward the amputee zombie and sliced off the rest of its arm while simultaneously stabbing it in the face. Black blood squirted out, hitting me in the forehead.

"Sorry!" Ro shouted back, although it was clear he enjoyed it way too much.

Behind me, the loner moved with amazing agility. He knew the exact moment to duck and dodge clawing hands, and every single swipe he made was deadly. Each strike hit an undead in the head; each slash went clean through the neck. Beside me, Ro laughed as he toyed with the zombies, cutting off any reachable limb so they fell to the ground, immobile, until he buried the point of his sword between their eyes. I had to admit I was enjoying myself a bit as well. It had been so long sinse I'd had adrenaline pumping though my veins and I felt like I could fly.

Within a matter of minutes, there were only five zombies left. I whipped my arms, sending both knives flying simultaneously; one hit a zombie square in the forehead, while the other slashed through another's neck, but did not sever it. The loner finished the job before the zombie could make a last groan. Ro slashed the decaying arms off another, and kicked it onto the ground before cutting off its head, then made a blind jab with his sword at another zombie that was approaching behind him. He managed to skewer it through the chest. The disgusting thing grabbed comically at him, unable to move any farther. Ro kept trying to slide the blade out of it, but it was stuck.

"A little help here?" He cried as he swung the zombie back and forth as it growled. I took a running start, jumped, and kicked it in the chest with both feet. I fell in the sticky earth, but I did my job. The zombie was jerked from the blade and fell on its back, where it squirmed like a turtle flipped over. Within two seconds it was finished.

I got up and looked around. The area that the three of us stood in was surrounded by at least forty dead zombies. It was the most I'd ever seen.

"Well," Ro said, breaking the silence. "That was fun."

The loner surveyed the area, his face grim. With a shock, I realized he was one of the most gorgeous guys I'd ever seen. Although his face was gaunt and filthy, his dark brown eyes glinted. His hair was black as ink, and messy, like keeping his hair nice was the bottom thing on his priority list. On his back was a black backpack. It stuck out, obviously stuffed full to overflowing. He was quite an attractive loner.

"Are you going to thank us or something?" Ro said. His voice was not bitter, but slightly amused.

The loner stared at him, eyes narrowing. "Thanks," he said slowly, as if he didn't really want to acknowledge our help in the first place. He tightened the straps on his backpack, sheathed the knife and the sword, and began walking briskly away.

"Wait!" I blurted. "Come back here."

He stopped in his tracks, and then reluctantly came back to us. His blackish eyes regarded me coldly.

"Are you all alone?" I asked.

His expression did not change. "Yes."

He _was _a loner then. What a shame. "There's a refugee camp nearby. You can have a safe place to sleep, new clothes, a shower, and a bit to eat."

He looked back toward the woods, like he didn't really want to come with us. Surprisingly, he sighed and said, "Okay."

Ro looked back and forth between the both of us. "Oh my god. He talks even less than you do, Jordan."

I punched him in the arm. "Shut up." I addressed the loner again, asking, "You have a name?"

"Blake."

"Well, Blake. Let's go back to Banner Rock, yes?"

I turned to head back to camp, when suddenly time seemed to slow down. I stepped, I saw the legless zombie on the ground, saw it was still alive. I heard Ro shout out, and I saw Blake the Loner dive me. I saw the zombie grab my leg with the one decaying hand it had left. I felt it sink its teeth into my ankle. Then I screamed.

**Well? Like? Dislike? REVIEW!  
**

**There should be a new chapter fairly soon. Please review and give me suggestions and whatnot, and submit a character! (Be very descriptive with the personalities if you do!)**

**Thank you everyone who has reviewed so far! It seriously makes me smile whenever I get an email saying "New Review!" Thank you all!**


	3. Blake Kace

**So I forgot that the name Jordan works for both girls **_**and **_**boys. Whoops. For anyone that was confused, Jordan IS a girl! Sorry for any confusion!**

**So. Here is Blake, who you briefly met in the previous chapter!**

_**Blake **_

_Earlier…_

In a zombie apocalypse, the only person you can trust is yourself.

Sure, you can be like the survivors in the zombie movies that get together and beat zombies to death with cricket bats and stay in Bill Murray's house and have a jolly good time while the rest of the population drags their feet around moaning for cerebral matter.

But really that only happens to a few people, if any. What really happens when a ragtag group of survivors gets together is they steal each other's supplies in the middle of the night and take off. They start acting like complete idiots and a danger to everyone, and you have to leave them behind. They get injured and you have to leave them behind. They turn into a zombie and you have to leave them behind after you bash their skull in.

It's usually just easier to travel alone. You can only trust yourself. Everyone will turn into a zombie some time. Its best not to give anyone room to bite your arms off.

I was alone at first, during that day that changed everything.

I walked thought the woods, somewhere in New York. I didn't know where I was going, and I didn't care. You couldn't stay too long in one place. The zombies are attracted to sounds and smells and light. If you start causing a running disturbance in one place, eventually they come after you. So you keep walking. I was whittling away at a branch as I walked. It was more of a thick stick really, as long as my forearm. I was working on sharpening the end into a point. Because when everyone wants to kill you, it's usually helpful to have a lot of deadly weapons around.

Night was falling. I probably needed to find a place to sleep soon. The zombies were most active at night. I didn't know why. Maybe it was because the sun made their flesh deteriorate faster. I saw a large cliff ahead of me; there was probably some little cave I could hole up in while I waited for the sun to rise. Or else I could probably climb a nice, tall tree to make a little nest in, as long as the lowest branch was high above my head. I'd had a bad experience with zombies and trees with low branches.

By the time I reached the face of the cliff, it was well into the night, possibly early morning. I'd only seen one zombie, which I tested my new stake-like weapon on. It was sharpened very well and did the job, but it wasn't the same as a good knife or sword. If only I'd cared less about the stake and more on the absence of the zombies.

I surveyed the cliff, spotting an indent about twenty feet up. It was a small cave, a good, person sized hole. I rubbed my hands together. It wouldn't be that difficult of a climb. There were a lot of footholds that I could cling to. I tightened the straps on my backpack, made sure that my weapons were safely sheathed, and began to scale the wall.

I didn't even make it a meter higher before something grabbed around my ankle and yanked me down. My forehead slammed against hard stone and I hit the ground hard, blinking blood out of my eyes. I didn't have time to feel pain at this point, because I was surrounded by zombies.

How did they find me? How didn't I see them before?

Maybe they were getting smarter. Maybe they were biding their time before coming after me, and maybe they were traveling in a pack and just happened to stumble upon me. I'd seen zombies traveling together before.

I'd stayed well away from the packs.

Unfortunately, I was face to face with one right now. Decaying, mottled hands reached for me, but I was determined not to have a single dead hand touch me. I unsheathed the weapons at my sides; a sword for long range, and a knife for anything that got too close for my liking.

I slashed and swiped, aiming upwards. Cuts and gashes did nothing to zombies unless you hit them in the skull or neck. As one of those zombies movies once said, "Detach the head or destroy the brain." Something like that.

I was a good fighter. I'd been doing it for years, even before the zombie disease showed up. Unfortunately, there were way too many of them for a single person to handle. It wasn't long before I realized I would be fighting to the death.

Then I heard voices. Not zombie death moans- real _human _voices. Under normal circumstances I would run the other way at the sound of a voice. These were not normal circumstances, however; I couldn't run even if I wanted to, and I needed someone to help get these things off of me.

Soon the sound of dying zombies multiplied as at least two more people joined the fight. The crowd of zombies around me began to thin, then vanish completely when of the helpers stabbed a zombie on the ground.

"Well," he said, looking down at the corpse-littered ground. He was a teenage guy around my age, wearing a gray hoodie with the sleeves pushed up. There was a large slash in the chest of it. I wondered whether it was from the zombies or his partner, who stood a foot away. His partner was a girl, which surprised me a bit. Most girls wouldn't voluntarily go out to fight the walking dead. She had long sandy blonde hair, which was now tangled from fighting. There was a wicked-looking scar across her cheek. Her eyes were blue, and they were narrowed in a way that told me not to mess with her. "That was fun."

I looked around at the dead zombies. I hoped the guy was trying to be funny, because the fight was definitely not that fun for me.

"Are you going to thank us or something?" he said.

I looked at him, noted his mischievous eyes. Not to be trusted. "Thanks," I said begrudgingly. I tightened the straps on my backpack again, sheathed my now blood-splattered weapons, and began to walk away. I didn't need two more people following me around, no matter how helpful they were. People just caused problems.

"Wait!" The girl said. "Come back here."

Well then. If I kept walking, she would probably call again, and make noise. Noise equals zombies, although we probably just killed every one in a two mile radius. I reluctantly faced them again, although really, I just wanted to leave as soon as possible.

"Are you all alone?" she asked.

"Yes." I meant to be alone. I wanted to be alone. Now shut up and let me go along on my way.

She looked at me with pity. Pity was the last thing I wanted. I didn't need it. "There's a refugee camp nearby. You can have a safe place to sleep, new clothes, a shower, and a bit to eat."

God, she really wanted me to go with them. I could hear it in her voice. I looked back and forth between her and the evil-looking boy. Maybe one night wouldn't hurt. A bit of food and one night's rest. Then I would leave right away in the morning. No one would even notice me slip out. "Okay."

The guy looked back and forth between me and the girl, looking mildly surprised. "Oh my god. He talks even less than you do, Jordan."

Jordan punched him in the arm. "Shut up. You have a name?"

"Blake." Internally, I cursed myself. Why in the hell did I tell her my name? Exchanging names was the first step of getting attached to someone. When you get attached to someone, you always lose them.

"Well, Blake. Let's go back to Banner Rock, yes?" she said with a small smile. She turned to walk, probably lead me to the camp she had talked about, but before she even set her foot down, a zombie pushed itself off the ground with one arm, grabbed her ankle, and took a good bite.

She screamed, and before I even analyzed what was going on, I whipped out a knife and flung it, hitting it directly in the skull. The now-dead-again zombie slumped to the ground. Its skeletal hand was still wrapped around her foot. Her jeans were torn and already drenched in blood. I ran up to her and caught her before she fell. Her face was pale and scrunched in pain.

I wrapped her arm around my neck. "Where is this camp you've been talking about?" I demanded the guy.

He grabbed her other arm and put it around his own neck, so we were both supporting her. "Just go where I go, yes?"

I nodded grimly, and we began walking through the woods.

Of course the one time I accept help from someone, they get bitten by a zombie. Figures.

We followed the cliff. The girl, Jordan, limped between us, moaning. Her footsteps left a bloody trail. No doubt it would attract even more of the undead.

"Ro-" She muttered. "Ro, I…" She was unable to finish whatever she was about to say. She was pale and breathing short, shaky breaths.

"It'll be okay," the boy said. I guessed his name was Ro. Ro was kind of a stupid name. "We just have to get you to the healers."

_The healers won't be able to help her, _I thought grimly. _She'll turn into a cannibalistic monster, just like the rest of them. _Of course, I didn't say this out loud.

Eventually a large wooden wall came into view, made up of hundreds of thick logs. I could see where they came from; the wall was surrounded by what seemed like a million tree stumps where they were hastily cut down. We hobbled to the front, where Ro shouted to the guards. "Hey, you lot! Stop sleeping, you morons! Let us in and get us a healer, now!"

The gates were opened quickly by a couple of kids with bows and arrows. A tall, beautiful girl with golden hair rushed to help us in. The gates swung shut behind us.

"What- Jordan!" the girl said, half worried, half angry. "_Healers, where the hell are you?"_

By now the girl was barely conscious. Two other people, a short Asian girl with pigtails and a stocky boy with sea-blue eyes, ran up with a stretcher. They loaded Jordan onto it and hurried off into a large canvas tent.

The golden-haired girl turned to Ro, her arms crossed. "What happened? And Rowan, if you lie to me, so help me gods I will feed you to the zombies."

Ro wiped at a bit of zombie blood on his forearm, not daring to meet her eyes. "We snuck out- well, _she _snuck out and I just happened to be there, and we found _this_ guy by himself surrounded by every zombie in New York state, and she kind of got chomped in the process. That's just about it, Cersei."

Cersei turned to me. Her eyes were violet, an unusual shade. They seemed to bore into my soul. "Now who are you?"

"Blake Kace," I muttered.

"He's a loner," Ro added.

"You are lucky that half-bloods can't be zombies," Cersei scolded. "Otherwise I would have you killed for turning one of my best campers."

Half-bloods? What the heck was she talking about? "What are half-bloods?"

She raised her eyes, sobered. She cocked her head, interested. "You don't know? That's funny. You're probably one yourself."

…..

I couldn't believe my ears. "So I'm half god?"

Cersei nodded. We were in the medical tent. Jordan lay asleep on a cot, looking remarkably better than she had thirty minutes ago. "Yes. We will probably find out who your parent is in a couple of days or so."

"But… my parents are _my _parents." There were my parents, at least. They were both dead. I'm pretty sure I'd know if one of my parents was a god. Then they would be alive.

Cersei shrugged rather insensitively. "One of your parents was probably a stepparent. Maybe you were adopted. I don't know your family tree."

This was messed up. There's no way my parents were gods, either one of them. My brain felt like someone punched me in the head. "And we can't be turned into zombies? I thought whenever someone got bitten they got turned."

She shook her head. "Zombie bites will hurt a lot and probably make you very sick, like Jordan here," she said, gesturing to the pale girl beside her, "But you'll live as long as you get medical treatment. It usually takes about a day to get back to normal. The only way for a demigod to turn into a zombie is… well, it's best I don't get into that."

I didn't even want to ask how a half-god could get turned into a zombie. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't good.

"Well, we'd best leave her here for now," Cersei said, leaving the tent. I followed her. "Onto another topic." She turned to me, regarding me with cold eyes. "Are you planning on staying or leaving?"

"Leaving," I said automatically.

"Good. I don't know who you are, but you don't seem like you'd get along well with others. I intend to keep my campers alive, and I feel like you'd just cause a disturbance. I'll let you stay for two days at the most, but after that, I want you _out_. Do I make myself clear?"

I nodded.

"Good," she said. "Two days, Blake Kace." She walked away briskly. I stood there for a couple moments, not knowing what to do. I hated refugee camps such as this one. Too many people in one place. They were undead magnets. I could probably manage to stay for two days. It would be nice to get some real rest, but I probably would not be able to bear talking to… people, demigod or not.

Demigod. I was no longer just a loner, but a demigod as well now. According to Cersei, I probably had powers I didn't know about, but I didn't really care about that. Zombies were now even more attracted to me than to normal humans. That was probably why they always seemed to find me.

I also couldn't be turned into a zombie.

That's what relieved me the most.

It eliminated my one real fear in this world. To become one of them. To become a mindless, brain eating monster, emotionless to the point that I would gladly devour anyone I met. It was the main source of my nightmares.

Maybe I would sleep easier now.

But probably not.

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	4. Medical Tent

** Sorry this chapter took so long to send out. I mainly worked on it tiny bit every couple of days. It's not as exciting as the other chapters, so sorry about that… But here ya go!**

_**Arya**_

I was shook awake early in the morning by Ezekiel. I stared up at him blearily. It was three in the morning. I vaguely remember asking him, "Where did the swim trunks go again?"

Ezekiel blinked. "The swim trunks are probably hanging on the clothes line. But that's not important. I need to you to do the medical tent today."

I rolled over and shoved my face in the pillow. "Can't someone else take that job?" Unfortunately, my face was full of pillowcase and it sounded more like "Cunshummmmmmb."

Ezekiel must have been fluent in pillow-speak, because he flipped the covers back, immediately giving me goosebumps from the cold air. I snatched at the covers, trying to get warm again. "Jakkob would be working as usual, but he… kind-of-sort-of passed out from exhaustion last night, and you're the only one qualified for it." Qualification was important when it came to running the medical tent. Last time my half-brother Andrew tried to fix everyone's injures, he ended up giving everyone smallpox. Don't even ask how that happened.

I sat up, gathering my blonde hair in a ponytail. "Fine. I want coffee. And a pay raise."

"Last time we gave you coffee, you almost set the forest on fire. And you don't get paid, anyway. I expect you to be in the tent in ten minutes." Ezekiel left the cabin swiftly. He probably didn't want to argue with me anymore. If there was one thing he hated, it was arguing; he tried to avoid it whenever possible.

I yawned and walked over to my assigned dresser. I grabbed a pair of clean-ish blue jeans (just ignore the bloodstain on the knee) and a black V-neck, and changed quietly in order to not wake anyone up. As I tied my shoes, I noticed Renee's bunk was empty. I was starting to get worried. I hadn't seen her since two nights ago, when she was told her mother had died.

Death is something you eventually get used to, especially in the zombie freaking apocalypse. You're surrounded by it, but it still hurts when the person you loved most was suddenly gone from the world. That still didn't stop me from worrying about Renee. She was missing. I wouldn't be surprised if she was outside the camp, in the middle of the zombie-infested wilderness. The thing that bothered me the most was that she probably wasn't thinking clearly and making rash decisions, and out in that world, it could get her killed before you can say "Night of the Living Dead."

The med tent was unusually quiet, seeing as all the overnighters were sleeping. There was a wide array of injuries; a couple broken bones, a full body cast, dozens of concussions and gashes, some humans with bad cuts and scrapes (Yes, we have humans at Camp Half Blood. You have to keep the surviving human race alive somehow, right?) two cases of mono (thanks, Aria of the Aphrodite cabin), and one other person recovering from zombitis.

Zombitis was probably not the disease's actual name. It was more of an infection anyway. Some kid who thought they had a sense of humor dubbed it 'zombitis' when it was first discovered by some unlucky half-bloods at the very start of the apocalypse. See, half-bloods can't become zombies. Something about the godly blood or whatever. When a demigod is bitten, they don't become a zombie, but rather contract zombitis. It's basically some really nasty infection that you get from the nasty bacteria from inside the zombie's mouth. I've gotten it a couple times, and I can tell you zombitis is not a fun time at all.

I plopped myself in one of the empty chairs around the tent. The med tent wasn't even a tent. It was a cabin, but for some reason everyone called it a tent. I never understood why. The clock on the wall read 3:15. Great. It was at least an hour or so until these guys woke up and I could give the nectar/ambrosia combo to the demigods and the mortal medications to the humans. Jolly.

I sat around for at least a half hour reading an old _National Geographic _until Clint entered the cabin, shutting the door quietly as to not wake up any of the patients. My stomach immediately squirmed. Clint was the doctor in charge of the humans, which worked best seeing as he was an actual doctor. Scratch that; he was as close to a real mortal doctor as we could get. He had just started medical school when the apocalypse started, so he was still very young, but experienced enough. He was also very, very attractive.

He brushed his palm through his hair as he looked around at the patients. It was dark blonde, just light enough to disqualify as brown, and messed up in a painfully adorable bed-head way. His hazel eyes flicked over the human patients. "Anyone dead yet?"

I grinned at him. The med tent was a surprisingly fun place when Clint was around. "Nope, not yet. But I _am _dying of boredom."

"Hm. I don't know what to prescribe you for that." He walked up and down the rows of cots, checking up on everyone. He patted an Ares kid with a broken leg absentmindedly on the leg as he passed. The kid groaned in his sleep. "Whoops. Sorry, bro."

After making his rounds, he eased himself into the chair across from me. "So, Arya. My favorite Apollo kid aside from Jakkob, Andrew, Ezekiel…"he smiled. "Just kidding. Anyway, what's up?"

I shrugged. "Oh, you know. Zombie killing duty every day, running out of fighting clothes, AWOL half-sister-"

"Wait. AWOL half-sister? Which one?"

I bit my lip. "Renee. Her mom died two days ago. Actually, I have no idea when her mom actually died, but we got the message- anyway. I haven't seen her sinse then. I told Ezekiel, but he didn't really seem bothered by it at all."

Clint frowned, genuinely worried. "Well, if she's outside the camp, she'll be safe. She knows how to fight well. She's probably around somewhere close though. Renee probably just needs some space, that's all."

I nodded. Okay. Space. I could give her space. "One question, though; what happens if she decides to go all vigilante and attempt to kill every single zombie in the world sinse she has nothing else to live for?" I found that things like that tended to happen in the movies and such.

Clint pondered this. "Well, it would do the world a favor, at least."

Soon enough, the patients began waking up. Clint and I began moving from patient to patient. I tended to the demigods, giving them a special nectar/ambrosia mix. I also did some healing magic Ezekiel taught me. It mainly worked on minor cuts and bruises, but it also sped up the healing process for more advanced wounds a bit. Not long after we finished the morning rounds, the flood came. It seemed that just about every single person manages to almost kill themselves on a daily basis. It was almost a bloodier job than Extermination. I couldn't help but keep my eyes out for Renee. Maybe she was somewhere in the line, waiting.

Though the chaos, I heard one particular voice above the others: "Coming through! Yep, sorry, you're going to have to move- Son of a Pegasus, is that your bone…? Sorry, this is urgent… you should get that looked at, that's not natural…"

I rolled my eyes and chuckled a bit. Van was pushing his way through the line of injured campers. It wasn't until he was a couple feet away that I noticed he was half-dragging someone. Her hair, usually long and black and flowing, was tangled and bloody. Her clothes were in tatters and splattered with blood and zombie gunk. I must say Renee didn't look too good.

My eyes widened. "Holy Zeus, Van. What the hell happened to her?" Together we lifted her onto a bed. I began chanting under my breath, my hands moving up and down her body. The smaller wounds vanished, and the larger ones closed up a little. As I tried dribbling some nectar into her partially open mouth, Van began to explain.

"I found her just outside the Wall. She was like this when I found her-"

I cut him off with a glare. "What the heck were you doing outside the wall?" Van usually worked on plans for new buildings and techniques and such. He had no reason to even go near the zombie-infested outside of the camp.

He bit his lip, not meeting my eyes. Eventually he said, "Looking for her."

I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a needle and a roll of sutures. "You moron. I know you have a crush on her and everything-"

"You did?"

"Everyone does! You're going to get yourself killed, going outside like that." He probably hadn't even gone three feet outside of the camp, but people still get killed that way. Sometimes zombies lurk close to the wall, just so that they can't be seen from the guard towers, and then they strike.

He narrowed his eyes. His hand slid to the long sword at his side. I knew he knew how to use it. At the same time, he had much less experience with the zombies and combat than the rest of us. "I'm still trained for battle! I'm not as helpless as you guys think I am! And last time I checked, no one else was looking for Renee, so I decided to!" His face was flushed and his gray Athena eyes were fixed on me like he wanted to run me through with that sword.

I slammed the needle down, narrowly missing my fingers with the point. My face was red with anger. "Of course we were looking for her. She was gone for almost two whole days, Van! We had a whole search party; but _think_ about it, Van! You're an Athena kid, you know how people work! Her mom just _died_. We have to give her some space if she's going to cope!" Angrily, I grabbed some rubbing alcohol and a cotton ball and began cleaning up a particularly nasty gash. Renee gasped in pain and her eyes flew open. Van immediately took a step toward her, but I pushed him away. "_Not now_," I growled.

Renee tried to sit up, but I pushed her back down. I was still frustrated. Great. I was taking out my anger on an injured patient, but I couldn't help it. At this point I wasn't sure if I was angry at Van or at Renee. She'd just left for two days, and now she showed up all beaten up. It wasn't the dumbest thing she'd ever done, but still. Or maybe I was just angry at the world. "Stay _still_," I demanded.

She pushed against my hands for a minute, her icy eyes blazing and her teeth gritted angrily. Then all the fight drained out of her and she slumped down. It was then I noticed the dark bags under her eyes and the salt trails on her cheeks. I immediately sobered. Renee was my friend. She was going through a tough time, and I needed to be there for her.

I turned to Van, brushing my hand through my hair, stressed and suddenly I felt tired, like I'd just gotten back from a ten-mile run. There was still a line of campers leading out the door as well. "Can you go find another Apollo kid or eight? We're going to need some help in here."

He gave one last sad look at Renee, who was staring blankly up at the ceiling. Then he nodded and disappeared.

I picked up the rubbing alcohol and cotton balls again. "Sorry, Renee, but this is going to hurt." I started cleaning her many wounds again- from who knows what- but she didn't even flinch. She just kept staring up at the ceiling. The cleaning was nasty work. She was coated in an inch of zombie guts and blood and dirt and gravel. I wouldn't be surprised if it got infected. "Where were you Renee?" I muttered. "What did you do?"

Renee just blinked at the ceiling.

**Like? Dislike? Suggestions? REVIEW!**

**Probably not the best chapter in this story. But tell me what you think, especially if you liked it; I kind of wanted to show different sides of Van, Renee, and Arya, and I'm not sure how it worked out. Give me some feedback, yes?**

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	5. Confrontation

I'd been watching Blake for the past day and a half, ever sinse I got out of the med tent. Zombitis is not a fun thing, but I'd gotten it before. It was Cersei's orders to rest for a couple of days to get my strength back. Naturally I decided to watch Blake in a totally, non-creepy way.

He was different. Everything he did had a purpose. With him, everything made sense, but was both unexpected and expected at the same time.

He kept to himself. He spoke minimally, just enough to get by without anyone asking questions. He faded into the background. He respected people. He didn't talk down or up to anyone. He always kept that black backpack with him.

He was in his own world.

And he moved so stealthily even I had to watch carefully. I'd lost track of him numerous times. He was a master; always sticking to shadows, standing out of eyesight yet remaining close to as many exits as possible. He slipped out of places as if he were never there.

…

I peeked out from behind a corner. He'd just gone to pick up his lunch rations; he didn't sit in the cafeteria to eat, and I lost him in a crowd of hungry campers hoping for a bite to eat. _I _wanted a bite to eat myself. My stomach growled.

"Why are you following me?"

I spun around, bumping into Blake in the process. He stumbled backward awkwardly, but I tripped over his foot and ended up pinning him in a corner, pressed against his chest. For a moment we both stared at each other- or rather, I stared up at him and him down at me.

He cleared his throat uncomfortably and I took a couple steps back. "I wasn't following you," I blurted.

I saw his expression shift the tiniest bit to something like a scoff. "Okay." He slipped past me and began walking away. It wasn't until he was gone that I realized he had slipped his cafeteria sandwich into my pocket. There was a single bite taken out of the corner.

I could not figure this guy out. The sandwich was delicious.

Someone walked up behind me and put his arm over my shoulder. "That guy is a weirdie," Ro said casually. I shrugged him off angrily. "Too bad he's leaving tonight. You're going to have to get the rest of your stalking done in a couple hours."

"What? He's leaving tonight? Sinse when?"

Ro's eyes twinkled. "You're not even going to ask how I knew you were stalking him, are you?" When I glared daggers at him, he put his hands up in an innocent gesture. "That's right. I know everything. But yeah, he's leaving tonight ever sinse Cersei ordered him to."

Of course. Cersei ordered him to go. "But why?"

Ro shrugged. He began to lean against a tent. It started to give in under his weight and he jumped back up. "You tell me. You're the one that has super-secret sleepovers with her every night."

"That's not even half accurate." I stood on my tiptoes, hoping to get a peek of wherever Blake had gone. Of course, he was gone the moment he walked around that corner.

…

It was evening when I finally gathered the courage to confront Cersei. The sky had already turned a deeper shade of orange, and I knew I was running out of time to convince her to let Blake stay. Why was she making him leave so early? He could obviously be a huge help to the camp. I wasn't sure what he would do here, maybe fight zombies or find us food, but I knew somehow that he was supposed to be here. I couldn't explain it. I just knew he couldn't leave.

I tapped on the door to Cersei's cabin. "Come in." She sounded stressed, as usual. I pushed open the door and stepped inside. Cersei was staring intently at a map. I couldn't make out what it was for. "What is it, Jordan?"

"Blake Kace," I said.

She looked up, unbothered. "What about him?"

"Why are you forcing him to leave so early?"

She smiled coyly. "Why? Sad to see him leave?" Of course her tone would suggest that I had a _thing_ with him. She had a tendency to assume things like that.

I felt my face turn bright red. Whole bunch of nope. It wouldn't even be possible to have a _thing _with Blake Kace, seeing as he tended to disappear the moment you blinked. "No, it's just that… he could help the camp. Maybe point out where we could get supplies. He's traveled a lot, I'm guessing… it doesn't make sense to kick him out of here."

As I spoke, Cersei's eyes grew narrower and narrower until they were slits. When she finally opened her mouth, her eyes blazed. "On the contrary, I think I have perfectly good reason to kick Blake Kace out of this camp. He is a disturbance. I don't know if you've seen lately, since you're always sneaking out to throw knives at trees or some other pathetic shit, but Camp Banner is on the edge of a mutiny." My jaw dropped open, but she went on. "We're not well protected, we're on the verge of starving to death, and I'm surrounded by angry kids with deadly weapons. The last thing we need is some outsider coming in and causing some ruckus that metaphorically throws everything I've built up here off the cliff. If you really want him to stay that badly, feel free to go with him." Cersei leaned against the back of her chair, arms crossed, and waiting for a reaction.

My mouth opened and closed like a fish. Crap. Crappity crappity crap. "I want to stay here." It was the only thing I could think to say.

She pursed her lips. "Good. Then you should be happy to let Blake Kace go back to wherever he came from."

"But he saved my life."

"Good for him. Now get out, Jordan." She turned back to the map. In the back of my mind, I recognized Banner Rock, and a little to the left, Camp Half Blood.

I left her cabin. I felt like an idiot. Why hadn't I remembered that once Cersei made up her mind, there was no changing it? What was worse was that I knew her argument was true. In the last two weeks, we'd had multiple fights regarding food, and one near riot. Things were getting tense. Was Blake really making it worse? He'd hardly done anything, and people didn't seem to notice him.

"Thanks for trying," a voice said behind me. "But no thanks."

I spun around. I instinctively pulled out my knife and found myself pointing it at Blake. His black eyes reflected the Apocalypse Orange sky. He smiled shyly down at the knife, and then turned the tip down gently with his finger.

He adjusted the strap on his backpack. "I wasn't going to stay even if you changed her mind."

Blake Kace was mental. Why someone would choose the open, zombie infested wilderness over secure walls was beyond me. "Why not?"

He glanced at the wall impatiently. I could tell he didn't want to be having this conversation. "Too many people are always dangerous."

"Actually, I feel that there's safety in numbers."

"That's not what I meant." He looked around cautiously, and then stepped closer. I felt my stomach tingle. "Be careful of who's leading you. What they want can be different from what the people want." He backed up and turned. I wasn't sure if it was the orange reflection of the sky, but his cheeks looked colored. "See you around, Jordan Miller."

"Wait!" I lunged and ended up grabbing the hood of his sweatshirt. He stumbled backward when it caught him around the neck. "What do you mean?"

He just blinked seriously. "I think you know already." He twisted out of my grasp and vanished behind a tent. I stepped forward to chase him, but he'd already gone.

What did he mean about Cersei? He was definitely warning me about her. Yes, she was a little demanding, maybe a little scary, but she wasn't untrustworthy. She meant the best. I bit my lip, and couldn't help doubting that I really knew Cersei at all.

I wanted Blake Kace to stay. I felt it in stomach, in my heart, that I was meant to do something important with him. I'd felt it ever sinse I woke up in the medical tent. Ever sinse my dad showed up, standing at my bedside. At the time I was too feverish to register that the gods hardly ever visited their children anymore, or that he was standing there and no one else seemed to notice him. I all I had taken in was what he said: "Stay with Blake Kace."

Maybe that was what I had to do.

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	6. Stalkers

_Blake_

I had just made it to the tree line grabbed my shoulder, spinning me around. My first instinct was to pull out my knife and chop off the hand. Fortunately, Jordan had great reflexes.

"Oh my gods," she muttered grumpily, examining the long but shallow cut on back of her hand. For a second I thought she got the expression 'oh my god' wrong. Then I realized that there were, in fact, _gods. _Plural.

"What are you doing outside the camp? Get back in there before you draw attention to yourself!" I hissed, glancing back at Camp Banner's wooden wall. The guards perched on top didn't seem to notice us now that we were underneath the trees.

Jordan didn't say anything, just continued walking in the direction that I had been going. What the hell was she doing? Back in her messed up refugee camp was where she belonged, by her borderline tyrannical leader Cersei. Cersei was bad news, and I think she knew it too. That was part of the reason I was glad to get out. I'd been in multiple refugee camps, and each one had a leader. There were the good leaders who tried their hardest to keep everyone safe and alive and healthy. There were the mediocre leaders, who tried their best to get by. Then there were the others, the crazy ones, the violent ones, the power hungry ones, and the ones with ulterior motives. Cersei seemed to be the last kind. I wasn't sure what she was trying to do, but I knew it would just lead to trouble.

This time it was me that grabbed her and spun her around. We found ourselves a couple inches again, just like back inside the camp. In the orange light, I saw her cheeks go red. I tried to ignore the heat in my own face. "Go. Home," I ordered.

She just narrowed her blue eyes and spun out of my grasp and kept walking. I noticed the bulging gray backpack on her back. Holy crap. She was serious about following me.

"What is your problem?!" I hissed at her. Why was she being so stubborn? It was driving me nuts. Why would she want to be following me in the first place? It wasn't like I was going anywhere exciting. I hardly knew where I was going half the time. I just knew I had to keep moving. "Why is your new favorite hobby following me wherever I go?"

She froze. "Because."

Because? What the hell kind of answer was that? "Care to explain? I feel like I have a right to know, since I'm the one being stalked here." I faintly heard a twig snap. I quickly scanned the area. There were no zombies, none that I could see. I couldn't hear them shambling about, either. It was probably just a bird or coyote or something.

She sighed. She ran her hands through her long sandy hair, pulling it into a ponytail. "Well… I know it sounds weird, but… I feel like I'm supposed to go with you. Wherever it is you're going."

"I think its official. You're obsessed."

"It's not like that!" She looked away, looking slightly embarrassed. "My dad told me I was meant to go with you."

"My dad once told me to eat my vegetables." Well, partly true. I couldn't remember my dad, or my mom for that matter. I _was _at an orphanage for a while though. Miss Jones there told me to eat my vegetables daily.

She rolled her eyes. "_Hermes, _Blake. The god?"

Not again with this. All this godly crap was ridiculous. "Great. So your all-powerful godly daddy commanded you to follow me. Sounds like he's really looking out for you, sending you off into a zombie-filled wasteland with a complete stranger. If he's really so godly, why doesn't he get rid of all these zombies?"

Jordan's eyes darkened. I could tell I really pissed her off. Good. Maybe it would make her leave. "Gods don't have that kind of power. There are some things we have to do ourselves."

I bristled. "Wow. That's starting to sound like another god I once knew, and it seemed like he deserted us as well!"

It was dead silent. Jordan stared at me. She didn't seem angry anymore. More like worried. "You really don't believe us? The gods really are our parents. Can I prove it to you somehow? Please? It might help."

"Help with what?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. Survival. Better mental health or something. I can tell you who your godly parent is."

I leaned against a tree. Maybe if I gave her what she wanted, she'd shut up…? "Well, start proving."

She rubbed her hands together thoughtfully. "Are your parents divorced or anything? Mom or dad MIA?"

I blinked, wondering where this was going, and knowing my truthful answer would wind up being dead end. "Don't know. I've lived on the streets my whole life. I stayed in an orphanage for a while."

She didn't seem concerned. "Okay. That helps a bit. Most demigods are street-smart. Any weird experiences, habits, or abilities you can't explain?"

I blinked, racking my brains. "I've seen some weird stuff. Mostly zombie related, I'm not sure how that would help. But…" I paused. I'd been wondering about this for a while, and I supposed I was just lucky. "I've been traveling on my own all my life. For some reason, I always know where to go. I've never really doubted my sense of direction. I've never gotten lost, not once." Wow. I gave her an honest-to-god (gods?) response. I'd never really told anyone else about my sense of direction. Usually when people asked me where I was going, I made up some location.

Jordan's blue eyes brightened, and she smiled. "Solved. Your dad was a god. Janus, god of doorways, transitions, and fate and stuff."

Janus? I've never heard of the guy. "Sure. Whatever you say."

She put a hand on my shoulder. "I knew another Janus kid once. He had the same directional ability. He explained it that because Janus is the god of doorways and fate, he always went where he was meant to go. Maybe you were meant to go to Camp Banner," she added. "I'm right. I know it. You just don't believe it yourself. You will eventually, though. Trust me."

_Clap. Clap. Clap. _

Jordan and I both spun to the source of the noise, weapons ready. In the orangey moonlight, I could make out that annoying Ro kid perched in a tree. He leaned against it casually, one leg dangling. I swore violently in my head. First Jordan, now _him?_

He continued slow clapping dramatically. "That was really cute, you guys. I can tell you'll make a great couple. Can I be the best man at your wedding?" Jordan threw her knife at him. It stuck in the bark right next to his ear, but he didn't flinch. I guess she missed. Ro stared at him, as if it were a mildly interesting bug. "Wow. Temper temper. I must say, that was the longest conversation I've ever heard from either of you. Good job. Especially you."

"What are you doing here?" She whispered forcefully.

He raised his eyebrows and looked at her questioningly. "What are _you _doing here?"

She opened her mouth to retort, but I answered for her. "She was about to go back to camp. As were you."

Ro twisted on the tree branch. I thought he was going to fall, but he swung and hung by his hands, like a monkey. "False. Both her and I have every intention of going with you, Blake Kace."

I buried my face in my hands. Oh god. This couldn't be happening. I liked traveling by myself. Now I had two… _demigods_… following me. And I knew I wouldn't be able to shake them off. They were way too stubborn, and if we kept arguing like this, we'd probably attract a whole horde of zombies. "I can understand why _she _is so intent on following me. Why _you?"_

He kept swinging from the branch. "Comic relief?"

I groaned. "Seriously? That's the best you can come up with?"

"I am perfectly serious," he said, grinning. "If it were just you two traveling together? Bo-ring. I know Jordan, and she _never _jokes around. I need to be here to keep it interesting and PG-13."

I adjusted the straps on my backpack, frustrated. I could tell this kid was going to be as stubborn as Jordan. No shaking him off. This was going to be the worst trip ever. Of all time. "Great. Just freaking dandy." I was stuck with a girl intent on attaching to my side and a guy who was basically a human mosquito, minus the bloodsucking. We were a zombie magnet. Out of the corner of my eye, I could already see a trio of zombies shambling toward us. Funny. There was one for each of us. Maybe it was a sign of some sort. The Greek gods always sent out omens, right? Maybe it was a sign we were zombie fodder.

Jordan didn't seem to notice the zombies. It looked as if something else was bothering her. "What's Cersei going to do once she finds out we're gone?" From what I'd seen of Cersei, I felt like her reaction was not something I wanted to see.

Ro smiled at this. He dug in his pocket until he pulled out a pre-apocalypse iPod touch. I hadn't seen one of those in a while. "I got some Hephaestus kid to make this for me a while ago," he said, turning it on. Hephaestus? Probably one of those god people, I guess. "I connected it to the strategically placed bugs and buttons cameras I placed throughout the camp. In other words, I have eyes and ears in Cersei's cabin." He froze. "In a totally, non-perverted way."

Jordan wrinkled her nose. "Sure, Ro." By now, the zombies had gotten close enough that we could hear their rattled breaths. She noticed them now. "Three zombies," she said, although I had already pulled out my knife. It chucked it, and it hit the zombie square in the nose. I could hear Jordan chuckle at that. Maybe it was some inside joke or something. She threw her own knife; it struck in its forehead.

"Dibs!" Ro called, sprinting toward the last zombie with a sword in each hand. When he was within four feet, he hit the ground sliding. He slid like a baseball player between its legs, holding out the swords so they effectively sliced off both legs. The amputee zombie fell to the ground comically. Ro brushed himself off and finished it with a sword to the face. He looked up, face dirty and smiling. "I'd say that was a perfect ten on style points. What do you say, Blake Kace?"

I grumbled and shrugged. I wouldn't be surprised if I killed him in the next twelve hours. This kid was already driving me nuts.

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